


To Reign in Hell

by orphan_account



Series: Time Bombs: A Tutorial [2]
Category: Supernatural, Thor (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adam is Jane, Anael is Sif, Charlie is Darcy, F/M, Gabriel is Fandral, Gadreel is Volstagg, Lucifer is Loki, M/M, Michael is Thor, Origin Story, POV Character of Color, Raphael is Hogun, Rufus is Eric, just imagine everyone except Anael is black, luci going crazy, roughly speaking, shut up it works ok, villain style
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:39:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer Morningstar is the Second Prince of Heaven. He is both a warrior and a scholar, who has mastered both swordsmanship and the language of magic. He is beloved of all his people, and of his sister and his brothers and his father. He fears nothing, and nothing fears him.<br/>Yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice

In Heaven's diverse lexicon, the word for 'hatred' is derived straight from the word for 'heat'. If you are full of hatred, you are said to have a burning stomach. The verb 'to hate' literally translates into English as 'to be hot towards'. 

Lucifer thinks there must be something wrong with him; the first time their Father praises his sister for her work and looks straight past him to Gabriel, he feels a chip of ice slowly settle in his heart. 

It stays there for a very long time.


	2. Seeing

His mother's voice is soft, gentle, as she teaches him the skills necessary to control his...alright, his magic. He may as well admit to it, now he knows it will not simply go away.

That had been his first question, how he could make this stop. The queen's smile had been so sad when he had said that, and she'd kissed his forehead and told him he was wrong, that this was not the curse he saw it as. She had said that if he learned how, he could control it to hide it, but that he may not want to.

She was wrong, but that was alright. At least she was teaching him something that would help.

Still, as the lessons progressed, he could feel something inside him shifting. Mother talked of a network of energy, of a liquid web that flowed through all things. She explained that he was as a sword held up to a lightning strike- he could pull that energy in and channel it as he wished. She showed him the world through her eyes, and how he could see it too. It was glorious. In their lessons, he felt closer to his mother than he had ever felt to his father, his sister, even to Michael.

And then she had died.

When the body that had once held her had been returned to the earth, Michael and he had stood by their new brother's crib, staring down at Gabriel's kicking feet. Lucifer has already decided he does not blame the child for their mother's death- Gabriel had no choice to be born or not. His siblings share his view, but then again, it is hard to hate a babe.

Michael breaks the silence first. "She was teaching you, before her death."

"Yes."

His brother's eyes are suspiciously damp. Lucifer looks away- Michael doesn't much care who sees him crying, but he is embarrassed for him even so. Tears are not seemly for a prince.

"Show me?"

Lucifer is abruptly terrified. Michael has never shown any talent for magic- it is yet another thing that marks them different, and every single one of those feels like another nail in a pair of shackles.

"Please?"

Fear making him almost sick, he reaches for his brother's hand. It is surprisingly easy to open a channel between them and show him.

Michael's eyes finally overflow, but not, he thinks, with pain. "You see this all the time?"

"Always."

Michael turns to him as if seeing him for the first time. "Then you are blessed."

He smiles so wide it feels his face will break and, for the first time, he believes it.


	3. Mirror

He is not different.

He stares at himself in the mirror, running long fingers over smooth brown skin. See, his cheekbones are high here, his nose just slightly too wide in the bridge, his earlobes attached to his jaw. Eyelashes longer even than his sister's. They all say he is the image of his father, and he is, truly he is. He has Gabriel's smile and Raphael's sigh and Michael's bright laugh. He is as much them as they are him. His blood, as he is theirs.

He is not different.

He tells himself this again and again and, sometimes, it even feels like truth.


	4. Dreaming

He's standing on the edge of the world. Below him stars stretch out to infinity, galaxies spiral slowly in the blackness. He sees far less than the Dumah, but then no being sees as the Dumah does, not without falling into madness along the way. He can still appreciate it.

He likes it up here. The wind is fast and icy, whipping the long dreadlocks that he wears, as all children do. They tug pleasantly on his scalp.

He rarely gets time alone in the palace. Michael is his constant companion, and Gabriel follows him everywhere to irritate him, as little brothers are wont to do. Even Raphael always seems to end up in the same places as him, with a quiet sort of regularity that worries him slightly. He loves them dearly, but he needs space.

He smiles at that. Out here, he has all the space he needs, splayed under him like a map. He can pretend to be one of the explorers of the Old Days, deciding where next to go, filling in the gaps.

Stretching an arm, he points at a swirling patch of red in the far distance. "There, I think. I'll go there first."

The Dumah smiles slightly, but says nothing, as he plans where next to go.

Later, he spreads copies of the star maps on the floor of his room, and draws on his route in red ink.

(Much later, when things start to go wrong, he'll dream of stealing a ship and sailing beyond the Gates into the Universe below him, maps in hand. He never does. Escape is a dream for children.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumah isn't from spn canon; he's the angel of silence in theology. I thought it was appropriate, and I couldn't think of anyone else.


	5. Magic

 The relief he feels when Gabriel approaches him and shyly tells him that his fingers were sparking when he woke up is almost painful.

They settle in the library and begin with the basics, and he tries to imitate his mother's tone, her firm, gentle patience. He does not do nearly so well as her, but Gabriel is a good student and soon the light trickles from his fingers on command. Michael and Raphael observe from the sidelines, she in a nearby chair and he leaning against the wall.

Michael smiles as wide as their little brother at the first success; he looks enraptured. "But this is marvellous! Lucifer, why have you never shown me this before?"

 _Because it is something in which we differ, and that scares me more than I will ever admit._ "You never asked, brother"

Michael laughs at his tone, throws his head back and he is so glorious in that moment, so happy. Here he is, surrounded by family and why is he afraid? These are his people, his. Not different. Not alone.

He raises one hand, and the tiny fireworks fly.


End file.
